Duo Side
by Ziek Aramaik
Summary: Peter Parker, a kid with a split personality, just wants to be a normal teenager. But "Ben Reilly," his other self, wants to be a superhero and he won't let ANYONE stop him. Twoshot sequel to "Dual Identity."
1. Two In One Superhero

_**Two-In-One Superhero**_

Pete's alarm clock did _not_ wake him up that morning. It was Sunday, and Sunday mornings were sacred to Pete. Not because of church, but because he was allowed to _sleep_.

Sixteen-year-old Pete Parker had a busy schedule and little free time. As such, most of his sleep came from catnaps. He knew it wasn't healthy. But he compensated for it with the simple indulgence of weekend mornings. Late, late weekend mornings.

Regardless of _when_ he wakes up, the rest of his mornings follow a fixed routine. Pete starts each day by opening his diary and reading the previous night's entry. (Depending on what he finds, this may affect his mood for the rest of the day.)

After that he gets up, makes his bed, showers, combs his hair, checks his body for new bruises or scars, and gets dressed.

While reading the diary Pete learned that someone had an appointment late this afternoon. That meant Pete had several hours to himself before he had to "sleep" again.

* * *

Terri Lee took a short breath to brace herself, then knocked on the door. Without waiting for a response she entered the meeting room. Inside she saw a large group of police officers like herself, most of them seated at desks. At the head of the room was a middle-aged man with pale blond hair. This was their first meeting, but she recognized him from his photograph.

"Captain George Stacy," she addressed with a salute. "Lieutenant Terri Lee. I've just been transferred to the NYPD's special operations unit. We talked on the phone earlier."

The captain observed the dark-haired woman's demeanor. Professional, to-the-point. He liked that, and it was a notable contrast with the last newcomer. "It's nice to meet you."

"Am I the last one here?"

George shook his head. "No, we're waiting for one more person."

The next moment, Terri heard the sound of knocking on glass. She reflexively turned to the source... and gaped.

Outside room's large window--on the fourth floor of the building--was a red mask. There was also a red-gloved hand pointing to the window's lock. The closest officer casually opened the window, and he barely had time to get out of the way before the costumed man jumped through.

"What did I tell you about locking that window? I stick to walls--I don't walk through them."

He stood at full height and dusted himself off. The head, torso, forearms and forelegs of his costumed were red with a black web pattern. Everywhere else was dark blue. The mask had large, white eyes. The skintight suit showed off lean muscle, which belied his small frame.

"What is this?" Terri nearly yelled.

The young man looked down at his costume. "Can't you tell? At any rate, I'm not the window washer."

Terri struggled to regain her composure. She turned to the captain. "The 'one more person' is _Spider-Man_?" Terri moved to New York City only recently, but she had heard of Spider-Man long beforehand. The vigilante's infamy was quickly spreading across the entire state.

"I considered warning you on the phone, but something like this has to be seen to be believed." He gestured to the newest arrival. "Since last month, Spider-Man has been an unofficial member of the special operations unit."

The costumed hero bowed dramatically. "Feel free to applause." Silence. He stood straight. "Tough crowd."

"This is technically classified information," the captain continued. "So please don't tell anyone outside of the police."

"Captain, isn't this a little unorthodox?" Terri asked. "I mean, I've nothing against Spider-Man. But as a vigilante, he's technically a criminal. The chief is okay with this, right?"

"Well, the only actual charges against Spider-Man were assault, and we've already settled that. Of course there's usually protocol against bringing civilians into a unit like this, but with his abilities--"

Spider-Man wrapped it up. "In short, I'm giving the force a lot of extra muscle and I'm not asking for money. The higher-ups couldn't say no to that, no matter how much they don't like me."

Terri nodded. "I think I get the gist of it." She looked at the other officers and saw expressions of mild exasperation. As Spider-Man implied, it seemed he earned some hostility among the team. Terri wondered what it must have been like to work with such an eccentric, outgoing character.

Outgoing?

Spidey rubbed his hands together. "So! What's on the menu today?" He pulled up the chair to an empty desk and hopped into it. He landed with his knees up and his hands between his feet.

George seemed unbothered by Spider-Man's mannerisms. "A few weeks ago, Collins' One-Day-Surgery Clinic relocated to a new area and left their old building abandoned. We received a tip-off that a large gang has turned the building into a gun manufacturing base. We'll be doing a stakeout tonight and hopefully capture the whole group. Lieutenant Lee, this is short notice but you'll be coming with us."

"Roger," she diligently replied. Spidey listened only intermittently, waiting for something interesting to happen.

* * *

Spider-Man was nothing short of mysterious.

Not even the special operations unit knew much about him--certainly not his name or the face behind the mask. No one on the team ventured to question him, for fear of driving him away. Spider-Man came to the police strictly as a volunteer. He obeyed their instructions, but explicitly only because he chose to. And while many cops didn't approve of Spider-Man, they certainly didn't want to drive him away, lest he turn into an even looser cannon.

They often wondered _why_ Spidey suddenly appeared at the station and offered to join. He once mentioned that someone else made him do it--Nobody could tell if he was joking or not.

Spider-Man first appeared in New York City several months ago. He never said why, but he would patrol the streets after dark and fight any criminal he found. He was stronger and faster than an ordinary human. Add that to his ability to stick to walls, and he was obviously not just a guy in a costume.

At first he only appeared at night. But eventually--again, no one knew why--he starting doing his rounds in broad daylight. Shortly after that he gained the ability to shoot webs from his wrists. These webs proved invaluable for both travel and tying up defeated criminals.

Since his very first appearance, the city's been evenly divided into those who supported Spider-Man and those who were against him. Some civilians were thankful he appeared, some weren't. Some newspapers questioned his motives, some didn't.

Terri wasn't against what Spider-Man was doing, but she would always wonder to herself who he was and which side he was really on. She never expected to meet him when she moved to the city. But now that she had she felt like the answers were even further away.

* * *

"I can't believe I let myself get captured," Spidey complained. "And it had to be in front of the new girl, no less. My street cred is plummeting."

"It's no picnic for us either," Terri countered. George tried to get a signal on his handheld transceiver ("Because cops are too grown-up to call it a walkie-talkie," said Spidey), but with no luck.

The three of them were locked in the storage basement of the clinic. The stakeout and arrest had not gone nearly as well as planned. A large-scale fight broke out and in all the chaos Terri and George were captured and thrown into a storage room to become hostages. Spidey jumped in to help, but the door slammed shut behind him. Gang members immediately barricaded the door with anything they could find. Even with his strength, Spidey couldn't break out, not that he didn't try.

George put down the transceiver. "I can't get through to anyone. 'Course, even if I could they've got their hands tied with the gun dealers upstairs."

Spidey screamed. "I should be out there! This is the biggest, most climactic fight we've had all month and I'm _missing_ it!" He rammed the door and fell back several feet. He tried again... and again...

"Is he always like this?" Terri asked.

"It's worse when he's handcuffed," George answered.

Soon enough, Spidey stopped playing pinball and leaned against the door with his arms crossed. Terri could very easily imagine him pouting behind that mask. "I never would have believed Spider-Man was actually a kid. How old are you, anyway?"

He began counting on his fingers. "How old indeed? Four months? Five, six? Ah, who cares? I don't keep track."

"I haven't heard any gunshots for a while," George said. "The fighting is probably over. The other officers will start looking for us now. We'll be out soon."

Spidey scoffed. "Well, what good does it do us _now_ that the excitement's over?"

Terri couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something important--something about Spider-Man. A thought in the back of her mind had been bugging her ever since the meeting that afternoon. It was more than his age or his attitude.

What then?

Using the first question that came to mind, Terri asked, "Spider-Man, why did you become a vigilante?"

"Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "Do we have something better to talk about?"

After a moment Spidey tilted his head and said, "Well, the truth is I did it just to get my name in the paper."

"Come on, be serious."

"I was serious. I wanted to be famous." His tone grew confused. "Does this surprise you?"

The two officers blinked. "It surprises _me_," George said. "I honestly thought you wanted to help people."

"Hey, don't get me wrong. That's a priority too. But more than anything I just wanted to know people were talking about me. And... I'm sorry if I disillusioned you."

"Actually," Terri said, "it's not _too_ surprising. A reason like that is perfect for an outgoing guy like--"

Outgoing.

...Is a guy in a mask really outgoing?

"Wait." Terri looked in the eyes of Spider-Man's mask. "If you want to be famous so badly, why do you hide your face?"

Spider-Man, contrary to his talkative nature, was quiet for a long time.

At last he said, "It's not my face to show."

Pause. "I don't get it," Terri and George both said, almost in unison.

"This isn't something every paper-pusher in the office needs to know," he replied. "I'll tell you, but I want you to keep it under your hats. Okay?"

George and Terri considered. They nodded slowly.

"The thing is, I have Dissociative Identity Disorder. It used to be called Multiple Personality Disorder. Why they changed it, I'll never know. Anyway, my main personality doesn't want to get dragged into the spotlight, so..."

Whatever answer the two officers were expecting, it _definitely_ wasn't that. But now that they heard it the various clues quickly fell into place. "Now I get it," George said. "When you said you want people to talk about _you_--"

"Wait, wait," Terri started. "So, multiple personalities... Jekyll and Hyde... Stuff like that is real?"

"It's real to us," he stated. "There's two of us. I'm the second personality. You could say I'm an 'add-on' to the main personality. I don't like that. When I'm doing stuff as Spider-Man, I'm someone totally different from him. And even though people don't know _what_ I am, they're still talking about me and not him. Does that make any sense?"

"Kind of," George answered. "But if this is a secret, why did you tell us so easily?"

He paused. Then shrugged. "Almost everyone who's met him doesn't know he has a split personality. I wanted the shoe on the other foot for once. I wanted somebody to know what _I_ was without knowing who _he_ was."

Terri and George didn't completely understand the situation. But they understood that Spider-Man--a person who, regardless of his motives, was helping to clean up New York... a person who they each respected in some small way--put his trust in them. And they smiled.

"Well, I have no intention of telling anybody." Terri smirked. "After all, a lot of folks are saying that you're crazy and a mental disorder is just the sort of thing they'll twist to fit their argument."

"That's low," Spidey said in mock offense. "I finished spilling my guts. Now you tell us one of _your_ dark secrets."

"I don't have any secrets."

"You're a detective. You must have _some_."

"If I'm a good detective, I'd better keep them secret."

In spite of himself, George laughed at the whole situation.

* * *

"He told _who_?"

"Your dad, and some new lieutenant who only arrived yesterday," Pete answered. "He told them that he's somebody's split personality, which I explicitly told him _not_ to tell anyone, because it's just one step below revealing he's _my_ split personality. I swear, all that guy does is break rules."

It was Monday after classes. Pete, Gwen Stacy, and Mary Jane Watson were gathered outside the school gates. They made sure to keep their distance from the other students as they talked about the previous night.

Pete can't usually remember the things his other self does. So the two of them communicate through letters written in a shared diary. Last night's entry had put Pete in a sour mood all day. After telling his girlfriend Gwen, Pete's mood passed on to her. Mary Jane, on the other hand, found the whole thing hysterical.

"What happened after that?" Gwen asked.

"After that, the other policemen found the room and got them out. So the gang was arrested and all that was taken care of. And right before my _incredibly frustrating_ other half left the scene, he found Captain Stacy and Lieutenant Lee again and whispered, "Ben Reilly. My name, not his." Like everything else he said wasn't enough! He had to include his _name_ on top of it!"

"Stop laughing," Gwen told Mary Jane.

The redheaded girl chocked back guffaws. "I just think it's so funny that out of all the people in the unit, Ben ended up telling the father of your girlfriend. He does know that Captain Stacy is Gwen's dad, right?"

"He must know. Because I've told him. Several times."

"Maybe he told my dad on purpose just to annoy us," Gwen added.

Mary Jane wrapped her arms around the shoulders of her two friends. "You guys need to lighten up. Ben didn't tell them that he's _Pete's_ alter, so what's the problem?"

"Captain Stacy is a detective," Pete said. "How many hints to we need to put in front of his face before he puts two and two--"

"Dad?" Pete and Mary Jane followed Gwen's stare.

George's car stopped at the side of the road. He rolled down the window and waved to the three teens. They walked towards him. "Dad, what are you doing here?" Gwen asked.

"I finished work early and decided to give you a ride home. Do you mind?"

"No, not at all." She turned to Pete. "I'll call you later." He nodded as she got in the car.

George looked at Pete and Mary. "I can take you each home, too," he offered.

"Um... N-No thank you, sir," Pete responded. "I'm fine walking."

"'Sir?' There's no need to be so formal, Peter."

"He can't help it," Mary Jane cheerfully said. "He's dating your daughter, and you have a gun." She walked away without another word.

Pete turned back to the captain. "Just the same, I'm fine on my own." He thought a moment. "Actually, um..."

"What is it?" George asked.

"Could you _not_ call me Peter, please?" he answered. "When it's me, just call me Pete."

_'When it's me.' Oops. I shouldn't have said that_.

But George didn't seem to notice the slip up. "Alright. I'll see you again, Pete." And with that, he drove off. Pete smiled to himself.

_He's impulsive, immature, and too cocky for his own good. But if Ben Reilly wants to be an individual, I'll let him. But I want the same treatment._

_'Peter' is technically our shared name. 'Pete' is a name just for me, not him_.

* * *

Author's notes: I hoped you liked my new series. For _Duo Side_, I wanted to go in a different direction than I had been. My other stories had chapters that were part of a long story arc, but this isn't a good combination with slow updates. This time I wanted each chapter to be episodic and interesting on its own merit.

_Duo Side_ is technically a sequel to _Dual Identity_ but I'm trying hard to make it good by itself. Instead of a sequel, you can think of this as a spin-off. Or better yet, think of this as the main story and _Dual Identity_ as how everything got started. I imagine that my updates to _Dual Identity_ will come even slower than before, but I'm not ending it yet. Please give your support to both my projects.

This chapter was mostly focused on Spidey/Ben Reilly, so next time I'll do something closer to Pete's perspective. I hope you'll read!

Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man.


	2. Snapshot

Posted: 5/22/10.

Summary: Everyone has different sides to themselves, but Peter Parker is an extreme case. "Pete" just wants to be a normal teenager, but his split personality "Ben Reilly" wants all of New York to know him as the amazing Spider-Man.

_**Snapshot  
**_

Daily Globe's headlines: "SPIDER-MAN RUNS WILD! CAN ANYONE STOP HIM?"

Front Line's headlines: "SPIDER-MAN SUSPECTED OF BEING NYPD'S SECRET WEAPON. CHIEF REFUSES COMMENT."

The Alternative's headlines: "NO ONE KNOWS WHO THE SPIDER-MAN REALLY IS."

"That's not true!" a certain cigar-chewing publisher yelled. "I know _exactly_ who he is!"

J. Jonah Jameson threw the competition's newspapers in his garbage can. "He's a _godforsaken menace!_"

"Every day it's the same thing..." Betty Brant mumbled at her keyboard.

"He's untrustworthy," Jameson continued. "He's an arrogant glory hog! He's a disaster waiting to happen--"

Betty Brant, Robbie Robertson, and Ned Leeds all lowered their voices and yelled, "--_And I won't rest until I've used all my resources to ruin him!_"

"I do not pay you to finish my sentences for me!" Jameson hollered.

He stormed out of his office and glared at his staff, waving a copy of his own newspaper. He pointed to the picture on the front page. "Look at this photo--It's garbage! They've all been garbage! Look, the camera's not even focused. I've seen liver spots that look more like Spider-Man than this picture!"

"In our defense, JJ," Leeds pleaded, "none of the other papers can get a good picture either. It's not just us."

"What do I care what _other_ newspapers are doing?"

"You cared enough to buy three of them and read their headlines..." Ms. Brant muttered under her breath. Jameson glared at her for just a moment.

"Leeds," he growled, "we need an ad for tomorrow's morning edition. We're increasing the reward again."

"How much?"

"The Daily Bugle will give five hundred dollars cash to anyone who gets a clear photo of Spider-Man! Got that? _Five hundred dollars!_"

* * *

"Five hundred dollars?"

Mary Jane stopped so abruptly, Peter and Gwen almost heard her shoes screech on the sidewalk. Then she rushed to the newspaper box and pulled out a paper as fast as she could shove her coins in.

"Pete," she ran back to her friend and practically shoved the headline in his face, "first person to get a photo of Spidey wins five hundred dollars! You have got to do this!"

"I do?"

"Hello? It's five--"

"Yeah," Gwen nodded, "we caught that part."

"But you have--" Mary Jane stopped herself. The group looked around. Their sidewalk wasn't especially crowded, but there were still a few people passing by. The trio quietly headed for the closest alleyway, and they didn't speak again until certain they were out of earshot.

Mary resumed. "Out of every single person in New York, you have the easiest chance of winning this contest. You'd have to be crazy to--"

"Don't call me crazy. Ever."

His tone was quiet, but Peter glared daggers into Mary Jane.

The silence lasted for a solid ten seconds.

"I'm sorry..." Mary shook off her guilt. "Getting back on topic, why shouldn't you take advantage of this? Just get an automatic camera, ask Spidey to snap some pictures of himself, and split the reward."

"And become famous for being the _only_ person to get a good photo of Spider-Man? Mary Jane, I take the secret identity thing extremely seriously. I don't want to even be _remotely_ suspected of having a connection with him."

Gwen spoke up. "Would people really think you're Spider-Man just because you got a photo of him? Granted, nobody else has gotten a clear picture yet, but it would have to happen eventually."

"Wait. Gwen? You're on Mary Jane's side this time?"

"Yep. Surprises me too."

"Well, duh, of course she's on my side," Mary Jane said with a giggle. "Why wouldn't she want her boyfriend to win a lot of money? After all, her birthday's coming up."

Gwen looked at her with confusion. "No, it isn't."

"Well, it will _eventually_."

"We're getting off topic again," Gwen said. "Let's say you do it. Someone might suspect you got the picture with an automatic camera. But a lot more people would think, 'Peter Parker happened to be there with a camera when Spider-Man was swinging by'. This could actually reinforce the idea that you and Spidey are in different bodies."

Peter slowly absorbed what she said.

"That _is_ one way of looking at it... But I don't know..."

"If anyone asks how you got it, you can just tell them it was a fluke. Plus, since this would end the contest, it might reduce the number of people who are looking for Spider-Man. All in all, getting that reward seems like a good idea."

Mary Jane opened her mouth, but Gwen interrupted her with a look. "And I'm _not_ saying this because my birthday's coming up."

Peter averted his eyes. "I... I need to think about it."

* * *

That was a lie. Peter didn't want to think about it.

Because he knew if he thought about the contest too much, he would agree with Gwen and Mary Jane.

And that's why, alone in his bedroom, he kept his hands busy by getting Spidey's web-shooters and giving them fine-tuning they didn't need. Pete's desk was cluttered with tools and spare parts for the web-shooters, along with several other gadgets he built for Spidey's job. A camera was resting on the corner of Pete's workspace, not getting looked at.

Finally, Peter set down the shooter and screwdriver and admitted to himself that not-thinking was a moot point.

"Fine, I'll do it." He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "I didn't want it, but it looks like my Dissociative Identity Disorder has taken over my life."

Not too long ago, before Ben Reilly appeared, Peter was a nervous wreck with no self esteem. He waned to change that desperately. Logically, Pete knew that wasn't the cause of his multiple personalities. But when he remembered that desire to change all he could say was...

_What was I thinking?_

All Pete wanted now was to be himself.

Even so, Pete resolved not to wish his problems away. He wanted to take responsibility for what happened. Pete promised to accept Ben.

But that didn't mean Pete had to like Ben.

"I need to apologize to Mary Jane at some point tomorrow. I take the word 'crazy' too personally."

Before that, there was one more thing he needed to take care of. Pete reached for his shared diary and began writing a letter to his other self.

* * *

Ben Reilly couldn't possibly resist a chance to get his picture in the paper, so he answered Pete's request without a problem (He actually posed for most of the photos, but there was still one which looked natural enough to submit).

And the next day, Pete, Gwen and Mary Jane stepped into the elevator and slowly ascended to the office of the Daily Bugle. Pete nervously held a brown envelope which contained the prize-winning picture of Spider-Man.

Mary turned to her friends. "When we get there, can I yell 'stop the presses' really loud?"

"No."

"Please?" she whined. "I've always wanted to."

"Maybe we should turn back," Pete said.

"We've already come this far," Gwen told him. "This contest is the best proof you'll get that you and Spidey are different people."

"No one will believe it. _Someone_ will know Spidey used an automatic camera. I'm going to get found out. I'm going--"

Gwen grabbed hold of his shoulder. "Pete, you're starting to panic. Stop it."

Pete slowly took a deep breath. Mary Jane smirked. "Whipped."

They ignored her. "The longer this contest goes on, the more likely the paparazzi will follow Spider-Man to your house."

"So no pressure or anything," Mary remarked.

"Are you _done_ being comic relief yet?" Gwen asked.

"Someone has to do it when Ben's not here." She didn't give Gwen a chance to respond. "So Pete, have you decided what you'll do with the prize money yet?"

"Ben didn't want any; he said the free publicity was enough," he answered. "If I get it, I'm putting it in a trust fund and saving it for college."

"What?" she shrieked. "That's so boring."

"Mary," Gwen raised an eyebrow, "I'm starting to wonder. Is _your_ birthday coming up soon?"

She smiled embarrassedly. "Heh. I've been found out."

_I wanna take a nap_, Peter thought.

The elevator doors opened, and the trio stepped out into a very busy editorial office. There were many people there, and not one of them who wasn't either talking, typing, or running somewhere.

"Maybe we came at a bad time," Pete said.

"It's a newspaper," Gwen said. "I don't think it gets less busy than this."

"Well... which person should I give this too?" Pete raised the envelope.

"I'm not sure. The publisher, I suppose."

"Which one is that?"

"If it's anything like TV," Mary Jane said, "he'll be the loud, angry one who stomps around and barks orders at random people."

A door slammed open, and out stepped a man with a flattop haircut and mustache. He waved a piece of paper in the air and looked ready to kill someone. "I want this piece of trash spell-checked inside of three minutes or I'll fire the idiot who skipped it the first time! Leeds, you were supposed to finish that article seven minutes ago! And WHERE is my coffee already?"

The trio was dumbstruck.

"Whoa," Gwen said. "TV was right for once."

Peter stepped forward. "U-Um... Mister," he said very quietly. "I-I wanted you to see--"

"Foswell! Don't even think about a cigarette break when we're this close to deadline! Get cracking!"

"Uh," Pete raised his voice the tiniest bit. "I-I'm here about the contest you're running. The picture--"

"Grant! I need you to--out of the way, kid--I need you to get another poll done in two hours! _And will SOMEONE get me my coffee?_"

"Mister," Pete tried to catch up with him. "Please, if you just have a moment--"

Gwen wanted to groan, but she managed to suppress it into a sigh. She walked up to Pete and grabbed the envelope from his hands. "_I'll_ take care of it."

"Foswell! Didn't I JUST tell you to--" Gwen opened the envelope and shoved the picture directly in front of Jameson's face. He stopped like he was shot.

Jameson was silent. In response, the entire office froze.

Finally, Jameson remembered how to move and grabbed the picture. "**STOP THE PRESSES!**"

Mary Jane glared at Gwen. "Oh, grow up," Gwen replied.

Jameson looked down at Gwen. "Did you take this?"

"It was him," she happily answered and pointed to Peter. On cue, Mary Jane pushed the nervous child forward. "Peter Parker. _He_ was there when Spider-Man swung by. Very lucky person: being in the same area as Spider-Man."

Pete was worried that Gwen was overdoing it, but he was too stunned by the whole situation to object.

"That kid?" Jameson asked. "The entire city's trying to get a picture and Spider-Man was caught by a twelve-year-old?"

"Um, I'm actually six--"

"Ah, who cares? What am I complaining for? I got a picture of Spider-Man! A picture's worth a thousand words but this one just says JACKPOT! Betty, get the brat his check. Robbie, run this first page. Make the headline: _Spider-Man--Threat or Menace?_"

Gwen turned to her boyfriend. "See, Pete? Everything turned out just--Wait, the headline is what?"

"How can you possibly say that?" Mary complained.

"I told you," Robertson said, "he's not a menace."

Pete said, "Actually, I think it's a perfect headline."

"_Huh?_" Half the staff turned to look at him.

Pete shrugged. "Well, maybe it's a little harsh; Spider-Man _does_ do a lot of good. But he's so cocky and irresponsible. A super-powered person who acts like that is just a disaster waiting to happen, right?"

The boy suddenly sneezed. When he reopened his eyes, every person in the room was staring at Peter in shock. "What?"

"AHA!" Jameson yelled. "FINALLY! Someone agrees with me!" Jameson practically jumped across the room towards the boy. "What's your name, kid?"

"Um, Peter Parker. My friends call me Pete."

Jameson slapped his hand on Pete's back. "Pete, I've been saying that EXACT thing about that costumed weirdo since he first showed up!"

Pete's face just lit up when he heard that. "Really?"

"Yeah, but my staff keeps back-talking me and coming to his rescue."

"Gwen kind of gets it, but Mary Jane is always defending him, too. Oh, that's them over there. Gwen is the blond-haired one. She's my girlfriend."

Jameson nodded. "A Spider-Man hating girlfriend. Good taste." As they continued talking, Jameson led Pete to his office. "I'm always going on about how arrogant and untrustworthy he is. The worst part is his mask. If he's not a criminal, he should just let everyone see his face!"

"Uh, no comment... But you're definitely right about the arrogance," he eagerly added.

"Don't I know it! You remember that bank robbery he was involved in last month?"

"That was a nightmare! He almost _let_ two of the robbers get away. Good thing the police showed up."

"Say, Pete. You want some coffee?"

"Yes, please."

"Betty," Jameson called, "two coffees. Now, Pete. My question is, why does someone even THINK of wearing a costume like that?" The two entered Jameson's office and continued chatting about their common interest.

Gwen, Mary Jane, and the rest of the Bugle's staff were spellbound.

Betty Brant was the first to break the silence. "They're bonding..."

Ned Leeds said, "JJ found a kid who agrees with him about Spider-Man."

Mary Jane said, "The universe feels _wrong_, somehow."

* * *

Author's Notes: I don't intend to make Pete (or Ben) a permanent photographer at the Daily Bugle, but I would like to use ol' Picklepuss again. J Jonah Jameson is a great character, although writing him was kind of hard. I was worried I couldn't make him funny unless I copied lines directly from the movies or series, but I wanted to avoid that. Ultimately, I think I did okay. Feedback is appreciated.

Non Sequitur: You know those metal and glass boxes that sell newspapers on the sidewalk? I didn't know what they were called while writing this chapter, so I had someone look it up online for me. Turns out, they're just called newspaper boxes. Who knew?

Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man.


End file.
